


Pick Up The Pieces

by trashm0uth



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Abuse, Amy Nelson and Mark Fischbach Are Friends, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Depressed Ethan Nestor, Depression, Emotional Abuse, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Ethan Nestor is Sad, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gay Mark Fischbach, Hurt Ethan Nestor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Physical Abuse, Rape, Sad Ethan Nestor, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, a whole lotta angst, gay Ethan Nestor, non consensual sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:53:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25666999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trashm0uth/pseuds/trashm0uth
Summary: Ethan Nestor tries to end his life. Mark slowly realizes his feelings for his friend afterwards.
Relationships: Mark Fischbach/Ethan Nestor
Comments: 41
Kudos: 221





	1. Soaring

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE NOTE: I RESPECT THEIR RELATIONSHIPS IN REAL LIFE AND I DONT SHIP THEM IRL. I SIMPLY ENJOY WRITING FANFICS ABOUT IT. ALSO I’M SORRY FOR HURTING THE SMOL BEAN THAT IS ETHAN 
> 
> Second chapter will be out soon

Ethan stood on the edge of the building, his hands clinging to the railing in front of him. The wind blew his hair every which way, his tears glistening in the moonlight. He looked down at the ground below him.

_ 3 story drop. How much will that hurt? _

He tried to shake the thought from his mind as he watched people walk up and down the streets. He only saw a few people look in his direction, but he couldn’t see their expressions. He didn’t even know if they were looking directly at him. 

_ Didn’t matter.  _

Ethan moved his gaze from the crowds to the sky. The stars shone light onto the city beneath him. The moon glowed with its reflected starlight, illuminating the buildings and cars with a greyish galactic light. 

Ethan felt happy watching the world around him. His world. He moved towards the empty spot where a panel of the railing should’ve been, gracefully climbing between the rusted metal fence. He sat down on the edge of the rooftop, taking in his surroundings for the last time. 

_ What a shame.  _

Ethan knew his fan base would be upset if he died. He knew that, logically, this would hurt a lot of people. But Ethan didn’t know what else to do. He was tired of living through everyday feeling like he was a puppet on someone else’s strings. He didn’t want to feel like he was the odd one out anymore. His mind was just static that he couldn’t turn off. 

Ethan’s self esteem had lowered itself down into the negatives. Things no longer made sense to him anymore. His thoughts were just mindless gibberish, like the code of a corrupted game file. Things felt backwards, uneven and overall confusing. Even the smallest task felt like such a chore. It was kind of a miracle that Ethan had managed to continue Unus Annus and his own channel without causing suspicion.

Well, he did cause a little suspicion. His and Mark’s fans had started to notice how tired and dead Ethan looked during videos, despite keeping up a cheerful façade. Ethan didn’t know how to make an excuse for his behavior, so he just kept his mouth shut about the issue. 

Speaking of his fans, he had a video pre-made from hours ago. He actually uploaded it just before he made his way up to the roof. It was basically a recorded suicide note addressed to his fans. He felt like it would be wrong not to leave  _ something  _ for his fans. For the people who he built his career off of. He truly loved his fans, he did. He just couldn’t hold on any longer. He’d bottled up so much that he broke. 

He wanted to reach out to someone, he really did. But he just couldn’t do it for fear of them walking away. He was afraid of whoever he told making a joke out of it, ignoring the issue, treating him differently, and most of all, flat out leaving him. This fear was likely caused by past experiences, as he’d tried to tell people he trusted (when he was younger) about his mental spiral, but they’d just sort of laughed it off then ignored his issues. 

Then he tried to tell them when it got worse, and they’d gotten mad at him for ‘ruining their mood’ and then they basically treated him like he was a baby for ‘being sad all the time.’ And eventually, his ‘friends’ left him. So Ethan just never talked to people about it again. 

He felt weak.

He felt sick. 

He felt inadequate.

He didn’t even feel like a person anymore. 

He felt the wind blow gently against him, his tears falling faster and faster. His world seemed to slow as he stood up after a good thirty minutes of contemplation and reflection. He sniffled, adjusting his hoodie to shield him from the cold autumn night. The heartbeat in his ears sped up as he looked down at the small world below him. 

People walked and ran down the streets, the busy life of a pedestrian taking over their world. The cars sped down the street, some faster than others. He watched as each individual person lived their own busy life, blissfully unaware of whatever were to happen next in their fast paced existence. 

Ethan watched the vast sea of people in the city beneath him. They all frenzied and frantically scrambled for their goals, even when they were unreachable. 

Some caught in a loop of repeated daily actions. Waking up, eating, working, sleeping. The cycle repeats and repeats and repeats. Their sentience seems to have been taken as they’re controlled by their own lives. 

Some live in peaceful, tranquil environments. No interruptions. No schedule. Just flowing like a river through the ocean of existence. That was the life Ethan wanted. 

And some were like Ethan, broken down by the sharp edges of the days and weeks. The cruel mistress of time dragging them through their years. Agelessness aging them and timelessness carrying the clocks through infinity. 

The words of loved ones and friends become nothing more than silent lipsyncing. Every movement and sleight of hand feels like a controlled action. Everything you ever did and ever will do feels like a mimic, just copying anything and everything in hopes of feeling something. 

The ever growing numbness pulling your strings and speaking for you like you’re some antique marionette.

The dive into a nail bed that is hiding your own empty emotions. 

The art of ducking questions and pulling answers out of nowhere. 

_ The limbo of dancing into fire and dodging the flames just to say you’re still alive. _

Every movement, every step, every word, every glimpse of a shadow dancing in the moonlight, it’s a little piece of someone’s life. Every handwritten letter, every phone call, every text message, every blink of an eye is a look into someone’s life. 

Everything has a  _ meaning _ .

In the end, people come and people go. 

_ People walk and people run.  _

People love and people hate. 

_ People are people.  _

Humans are human. 

_ And that’s just the way it’s gonna be. _

… 

Mark was simply waiting for Sean to get back from his walk when a notification appeared on his phone. 

_ CrankGameplays uploaded a video: “I’m Sorry” _

Mark looked quizzically at his phone screen. 

_ He’s sorry? For what? _

He clicked on the notification, which promptly directed him to a three minute long YouTube video. As it was loading, he clicked on the description box. 

_ There was no description.  _

The video finally loaded, revealing a distressed Ethan, who had fresh tears and a flushed nose from crying. He sniffled, then started speaking.

“Uhm, hi. If you’re watching this, I’m probably dead.”

_ What? _

“Or if I’m not dead, then I don’t know why this is uploaded,” Ethan laughed dryly, no humor whatsoever. 

“But, I’ll just cut to the chase. I made this video because I needed to tell you all that I love you and nothing that happened or will happen is your fault. It’s nobody’s fault but mine. I just needed to tell you all that I’m sorry for disappointing you guys, both you and the people I know personally. I was weak and couldn’t deal with living anymore.”

_ Huh? He didn’t mean…  _

“So I decided to kill myself.”

_ No… no no no. _

_ Nonononononononononononononono. _

_ This wasn’t happening. Ethan— Ethan wouldn’t do this, would he? _

Mark’s breathing sped up as he watched the video play.

He was one minute in. 

“And it’s really just my own fault. I’m just over sensitive and… and can’t handle my own emotions. I just don’t know what to do other than bottle my feelings up. And I’ve been bottling up for so long, the bottle cracked and everything spilled. And I'm so sorry for ruining Unus Annus and my own channel. But, I’m sure you guys have a billion other subscriptions that you could watch instead of me, right? Ahaha… yeah, that’s probably true. I’m kind of replaceable if I’m going to be honest with myself.”

He was two minutes in.

“But, if you’re watching this, Mark… I’m sorry.” 

Ethan paused, hiccuping. He wiped rapidly at his face, trying to get rid of the waterfalls of tears falling out of his eyes. Ethan abruptly slammed his fist against his desk, crying out a little in agony. He soon turned his face back up to the camera and continued speaking. 

“I never deserved anything you’d ever given me. I didn’t deserve to start a channel with you. I didn’t deserve to be around you. Hell, I didn’t even deserve to meet you.”

Ethan paused, tears running down his face. 

“But really, I couldn’t have made it this far without any of you. Every single one of you guys were so close to me. So please don’t hold yourself responsible. I love you guys, and… bye?” 

The video ended. 

_ No. No. No. No.  _

Mark scrolled frantically through the comments, hoping to see some sort of comment that indicates it was a joke. But all he found were worried fans replying seconds at a time. 

**_Sandy Socks_ ** _ : Are you okay Ethan? _

**_Pleasebitch_ ** _ : Please don’t be dead, we love you _

**_Raphael Green_ ** _ : Should… should I call the police? _

**_Sammy_ ** _ : Please tell me this is some sort of joke  _

**_Clockworks_ ** _ : Ethan? _

**_Pastel_ ** _ : We love and support you no matter what, please know that _

**_No lol_ ** _ : Can anyone get this to Mark? Jesus  _

**_Dead Inside_ ** _ : How do we get mark to see this faster  _

Mark called Ethan three times in a row, each one going to voicemail. He was already rushing out the door when he backed right into Seán. 

“Have you been able to reach Ethan?” Seán frantically inquired. Mark shook his head. 

“Neither have I. I was walking and all of a sudden we got that notification. I watched the video and rushed here thinking you might know where he is,” Seán replied, his voice breathy and anxious. 

“We gotta find him,” Mark said, rushing out the door. 

… 

Ethan stayed standing as he prepared to make his jump. Then he realized he needed to put his phone somewhere safe. He didn’t want to waste any unneeded money.

Ethan walked through the gap in the railing and placed his phone down on the ground. He knew he shouldn’t be wasting any more time than he already had, but he couldn’t help it. He knew someone could sell it, and why shouldn’t they? It was worth something, unlike him. 

… 

Mark and Seán ran frantically through the streets, searching for Ethan. They had already checked his house, and he wasn’t there. They were just about to give up when ,suddenly, Seán stopped in his tracks. 

“What? What is it?” Mark asked breathlessly. Seán was pointing up at the roof of a building, and Mark followed his finger to see someone (presumably Ethan) standing on the edge of the building. 

Mark and Seán didn’t think twice before running up the nearby stairs and up to the roof. 

Almost immediately, they spotted Ethan standing on the edge of the roof. 

“Ethan! Ethan stop!” Mark shouted. 

“Ethan!” Seán called out. 

… 

As soon as Ethan heard his name being called by two of his friends, he knew it was time to go. 

He looked up at the sky once.

… 

Mark and Seán scrambled towards Ethan.

… 

Ethan stepped off of the roof, his right foot first, then his left falling off second. 

… 

Mark and Seán rushed across the roof, but they weren’t quick enough. They watched, horrified, as their friend stepped off of the rooftop and fell down onto the pavement below. 

Mark cried out in horror. 

Seán dialed 911 as he ran down the stairs to see if Ethan was still breathing.

… 

Ethan felt like he was flying. It was brief, and he knew he’d hit the ground soon enough, but he felt for a fleeting moment as if he was soaring above the city.

Then his legs hit the ground, causing his ankles to break. He automatically rolled onto his back, gravity pulling him backwards. He felt his arms crack from the weight of his body. He couldn’t breathe anymore, the wind being ferociously sucked out of his lungs. Blood pooled beneath him, seeping through his clothes. 

He started losing consciousness just as he saw a man with green hair running towards him, pushing through the crowd of horrified onlookers. 

… 

Seán checked Ethan’s pulse. It was barely there, but it was still present nonetheless. He checked to see if he was still breathing. 

Just barely. 

Seán hugged his friend close, hearing sirens in the distance.


	2. Get Well Soon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ethan makes an update video and has a visit with his mother

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE NOTE: I AM NOT ASSUMING THAT ETHAN’S MOTHER IS A BAD PARENT. I MADE THIS SO I COULD SEND A MESSAGE (IN FUTURE CHAPTERS) ABOUT ABUSE AND ITS EFFECTS. 
> 
> TW for physical and verbal abuse. I’ll get more into the relationship between Ethan and his mom later but for now it’s sort of just this. Also I’m basically just writing this as a filler chapter lmao

Ethan’s nose was bleeding a little from the sudden air pressure change. His eyes were rolled back into his head. Seán cradled Ethan until the paramedics arrived and wheeled him away on a stretcher. 

… 

Ethan woke up in a hospital room surrounded by beeping machines. He opened his eyes and surveilled the room, spotting Mark sitting in a chair.

_ Damn it.  _

Once spotted, Mark’s eyes lit up, his flushed face regaining some emotion. 

“Ethan!” Mark exclaimed. He rushed over to Ethan’s bedside and gently hugged him so as to not damage any of the tubes and lines feeding into Ethan’s arms. 

“Hey,” Ethan laughed, immediately regretting it as pain surged throughout his chest. Mark seemed to notice Ethan’s pained expression. 

“Ah, the doctor said you had two cracked ribs, one broken arm, two broken ankles and one sprained wrist. He said that if you’d fallen forward instead of backwards, it would’ve most likely caused internal bleeding and/or organ damage,” Mark choked up a bit finishing the sentence. 

“Damn,” Ethan spoke flatly. He wasn’t really sure of what to say to Mark. He wished he’d have fallen forward. He really wished he’d just died. That would be so goddamn easy. 

Ethan cleared his throat. 

“Where’s Seán?” Ethan asked. Mark looked at him with an unreadable expression. 

“He’s down in the lobby, do you want me to go get him?” Ethan nodded. Even if he didn’t want it, he should thank Seán for calling the police and saving him. It was the least he could do.

_ The least he could do was just fucking die.  _

Ethan shook the thought to the back of his mind, knowing it was no use to try and make it stop. 

Mark smiled sadly and left the hospital room. 

Ethan wanted quietly, an empty tune of a familiar song echoing in the back of his mind. He wondered what it was called. Or maybe it was two songs? Ethan didn’t know. 

Ethan’s door suddenly burst open, his mother rushing into the room.

_ Oh shit. His mother was here.  _

She didn’t look how you’d expect her to look. She wasn’t worried, scared, nor frenzied. No. 

_ She was  _ **_angry._ **

The waves of a thousand oceans crashed in her eyes. Furious flames of blue fire reflected back into Ethan’s fearful irises. Her face was downturned into a rabid expression. 

The woman walked menacingly over to Ethan’s bedside, and for a moment, they just… looked at each other. 

Eye to eye. 

Person to person.

But then a sickening  **crack** emitted from the contact of Ethan’s cheek and his mother’s hand. 

“How dare you embarrass the family like this!” She shrieked. She came at Ethan again, this time punching him square on the nose. 

She threw her conniption fit, screaming at and hitting Ethan with all her might. And he tried to fight back; but he couldn’t, he had casts and braces on his most useful body parts.

Finally, she tired herself out after making Ethan a bloody mess once again. She left the room, stomping out into the hallway. 

But not before tossing a store bought “Get Well Soon!” card to her son. It had a little bear and a blue balloon on it, inside it said “ _ get well soon, love! _ ” in cursive lettering. 

Ethan started to laugh through his tears, ignoring the pain he felt shooting through his ribs. The irony was just too damn perfect. Beating up your son and then throwing a “Get Well Soon” card at him. 

_ How comical.  _

Ethan reached for a nearby box of tissues and dabbed at his face to wipe away blood and tears. He suddenly heard the door crack open, and his eyes shot up to see who was there. 

“Hey Ethan,” Seán smiled, his tear stained cheeks a stark contrast to his bright smile. “What’s— oh, you got a bloody nose or something?” 

“Yeah, I didn’t notice it until it bled everywhere,” Ethan lied through his teeth. Seán laughed. 

“Understandable. And I’m sorry I couldn’t have been up here sooner, there was some sorta hold up with a guy in anaphylactic shock.”

“Ah, so… I should probably thank you for, you know… saving me?” 

“What else was I supposed to do? Leave you for dead?” Seán chuckled, although it didn’t seem like it held much humor. Ethan laughed as well, but he was laughing more at himself than at Seán’s joke. 

“Seriously though, thanks.”

“It was the least I could do. And, you know you can talk to Mark and I if you ever need anything. We won’t judge you for it. Hell, you could commit mass genocide and we probably wouldn’t give two shits,” Seán laughed, genuinely this time. 

“Ah, I know. It’s just… I don’t know how to explain it,” Ethan smiled painfully. 

“I understand. There’s no rush, and you don’t even have to talk to us at all. I just want you to understand that there are people who care.”

“Yeah, I know,” Ethan lied. 

“Oh, that reminds me. Your fan base has been blowing up your phone with comments,” Seán handed Ethan his uncracked phone. 

Ethan opened his YouTube app and waited for it to load.

**New: 11 thousand new comments.**

_ Holy shit. _

Ethan read some of the comments, tearing up a bit at the concern of his fans. 

“Hey Seán, would you mind leaving for a second so I can record a video? Just to update my fans on the situation,” Ethan asked. Seán nodded, then left the hospital room. 

Ethan turned his camera on. 

“What is up my cranky crew? This is an updated video on the whole situation. I am alive…” Ethan paused. “Sorta. I feel like I should update you all on what’s going on. But, as you can see, I’m in a hospital with a bunch of tubes and stuff feeding blood into me. Or something. So I’m not gonna edit this video or anything. But I wanna tell you all what happened. I feel like I should, because I don’t want anyone to keep worrying and I love all of you and I want to keep you guys informed.” 

_ Nobody would worry. Even if you died, they’d forget about it in a week. _

Ethan cleared his throat.

“I jumped off of a building last night.”

_ You should’ve died. But you failed at that too.  _

“I sustained two cracked ribs, a broken arm, two broken ankles and a sprained wrist. I didn’t die because I fell onto my feet and then rolled backwards apparently. I guess I would’ve died if I fell forward. But it doesn’t matter I guess. Anyway, I probably would’ve died either way if Seán and Mark weren’t there. Seán called the police and Mark… I don’t know what he did because I was unconscious. But I’m sure he did something useful. Anyway, I’m probably just going to take a break from the channel for a while. It’s nothing you guys did! I’m just… I need a break.”

_ Of course you do. You can’t even work properly.  _

“I hope you guys understand. And, uh, thanks for all your concern. I’ll see you guys soon. Bye!” 

Ethan turned his camera off, imported the video to his laptop, and uploaded it without editing. 

He sunk back into his bed, the crisp sheets wrinkling under him. 

_ You’re useless.  _

_ Stupid. _

_ You should’ve died.  _

Ethan sighed, laying on his back.

He was tired. 


	3. Just a notice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a notice

I’m taking a break from this work because I got writers block. I will continue it soon. *NOTE: this will be deleted once I post the next chapter 


	4. Announcement

This work is discontinued, but it will be picked up by another talented author. Their account is ADHDdumbass, and I highly suggest checking out their continued version of my work once it is in the making :)


End file.
